


Uncle Moony

by RodeRozen



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen, Mentor Remus Lupin, Secrets, Sirius-serious jokes, Werewolf Transformation, Wolfsbane
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-08
Updated: 2019-05-08
Packaged: 2020-02-28 15:04:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18758845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RodeRozen/pseuds/RodeRozen
Summary: When Lily Potter gives Remus Lupin a gift for his eighteenth birthday, it drastically alters events during the third book.OR how Harry ended up with a perfectly imperfect family.





	Uncle Moony

“Professor R. J. Lupin,” said Hermione.  
“How do you know?” Ron asked.  
“It’s on his briefcase.”  
Looking at the briefcase, Harry only saw ‘Mr. Moony’ written on it in handwriting closely resembling his own.  
He studied the man, a vague sense of familiarity making its way to the forefront of his mind.  
“Uh, Hermione? It says ‘Mr. Moony, not R. J. Lupin...” he hesitantly pointed out.  
“Oh!” Hermione excitedly squealed. “There must be some kind of magic on it, something that allows certain people to see what’s really there...!”  
“But why would I see something different?”  
“No idea. You’ll have to ask him when he wakes up.”  
“D’you think he will?” Ron asked.  
“He looks fast asleep to me,” Harry said, shrugging. “Besides, I need to tell you something.”  
“Have you got into trouble already?” asked Hermione.  
“Actually, trouble’s trying to get me,” he nonchalantly announced.  
“Trouble’s trying to get everyone, mate,” Ron reassured him, “especially with Black on the loose.”  
“Yeah, well, apparently he’s got his sights set on me.” He heard Hermione draw in a horrified breath.  
“How can you be so carefree about it?!” she scolded.  
“It’s not as if this is the first time someone wants to kill me,” Harry pointed out. “And I don’t really believe this guy could be half as dangerous as Voldemort.”  
“You-Know-Who, Harry!” Ron sputtered.

 

They had just put their school robes on, when the whole compartment went dark. The train came to a stop with a jolt and distant thuds and bangs told them that luggage had fallen out of the racks.   
“What’s going on?” said Ron’s voice from behind Harry.  
“Ouch!” gasped Hermione. “Ron, that was my foot!”  
Harry felt his way back to his seat.  
“D’you think we’ve broken down?”  
“Dunno…”  
There was a squeaking sound, and Harry saw the dim black outline of Ron wiping a patch clean on the window and peering out.  
“There’s something moving out there,” Ron said. “I think people are coming aboard…”  
“I’m going to go and ask the driver what’s going on,” came Hermione’s voice. Harry felt her pass him, heard the door slide open again, and then Moony’s hoarse voice:  
“Stay where you are.”  
There was a soft, crackling noise and a shivering light filled the compartment. Moony appeared to be holding a handful of flames. They illuminated his tired grey face, but his eyes looked alert and wary. He slowly got to his feet, but before he could do anything, the compartment door creaked open. Standing in the doorway, illuminated by the shivering flames in Moony’s hand, was a cloaked figure that towered to the ceiling. Its face was completely hidden beneath its hood. Harry’s eyes darted downwards, and what he saw made his stomach contract. There was a hand protruding from the cloak and it was glistening, greyish, slimy-looking and scabbed, like something dead that had decayed in water.  
It was visible only for a split second. As though the creature beneath the cloak sensed Harry’s gaze, the hand was suddenly withdrawn into the folds of the black material.  
And then the thing beneath the hood, whatever it was, drew a long, slow, rattling breath, as though it was trying to suck something more than air from its surroundings.  
An intense cold swept over them all. Harry felt his own breath catch in his chest. The cold went deeper than his skin. It was inside his chest, it was inside his very heart.  
Harry’s eyes rolled up into his head. He couldn’t see. He was drowning in cold. There was a rushing in his ears as though of water. He was being dragged downwards, the roaring growing louder.  
From far away, he heard screaming, terrible, terrified, pleading screams. He wanted to help whoever it was, he tried to move his arms, but couldn’t. A thick white fog was swirling around him, inside him.  
“Harry! Harry! Are you all right?”  
“Yeah. What happened?” he groaned, opening his eyes. “Who screamed?” This question was directed at Moony, who was hovering above him.  
“No one screamed, Prongslet,” the strange man whispered, visibly swallowing. “Here, have some chocolate. It helps.”  
“What did you just call me?” he asked in confusion.  
“I’ll explain later. Excuse me, I need to go see the driver.” With that, he left the compartment.  
“What was that thing?” Hermione demanded of Ron.  
“A Dementor. They’re the guards of Azkaban.”  
“Well, what happened?” she persisted.  
“They suck happiness out of people. That’s all I know, Dad wouldn’t tell me any more.”  
“And that thing Lupin did?”  
“What did Moony do?” asked Harry.  
“You mean you don’t remember?”  
“All I remember is that thing coming inside, and then a woman screaming.”  
“Well, it stood there, turned its head a bit, and then Professor Lupin got out his wand and mumbled something.”  
“Something silvery shot out of it, and the Dementor ran away,” Ron added. “It was a Patronus, I think.”  
“I’ve read about those. They’re the only thing that scares of Dementors and Lethifolds. You’re supposed to be really powerful to be able to cast them, so maybe we’ll actually get some decent Defence lessons this year!”  
Harry and Ron chuckled at their friend’s enthusiasm. Right then, Moony entered the carriage, saying:  
“We’ll be at Hogwarts in ten minutes. You know, Harry, I didn’t poison that chocolate.”  
Absently, Harry took a bite of the bar.  
“How do you know my name?” he asked once he was done chewing.  
At that moment, the train stopped, and everyone began filtering out. When Harry automatically got up with Ron and Hermione, Moony smiled sadly at him.  
He wondered who their new professor was, really.

 

“Harry?” Moony’s voice called out to him just as he was leaving the Great Hall. “Can you come with me for a minute?” Shrugging, Harry followed him.  
They eventually arrived at the office where he’d served detention with Lockhart just a year prior. Opening the door, Moony conjured up two pillows in front of the hearth, which contained a blazing fire.  
Baffled at this strangely personal setting, Harry sat down on one of the pillows.  
“I’m sure you have questions for me, Prongslet,” Moony stated, joining him.  
“I do. Why do you call me that? And what’s with the briefcase?” he asked, pointing at the object in question.  
“The briefcase,” Moony whispered, sounding awed, “had a spell cast on it by Lily before she gave it to me for my eighteenth birthday. Anyone I considered family would see the words she had written on it, instead of simply my name.”  
“Wait, you mean Lily Potter, as in my mother?”  
“I understand this must be a lot for you to take in,” Moony kindly said, “but I was a close friend of your parents.”  
“There’s more,” Harry dazedly murmured, having developed a sense for when people were keeping things from him.  
“There is. I don’t think it’d be good to tell you everything at once, though. It would probably overwhelm you.”  
“Just one more thing?” Harry pleaded, not wanting to let go just yet.  
“Something big or something little?”  
“Something about you,” he answered without a second thought. His parents were dead, but maybe, just maybe, he still had family. Moony seemed to hesitate.  
“I’m your Godmother.”  
“Godmother?” Harry sputtered.  
“Your father’s best friend was named Godfather. There were four of us, four Marauders. Your dad and I, your Godfather, and another boy in our year. James was in love with Lily, and I was a study partner of hers.” Apparently realising he’d veered off course somewhat, Moony shook his head. “So that’s how I ended up with a female title.”  
Harry couldn’t help himself; he laughed. And laughed some more, and then threw his arms around his rather startled Godmother, who stiffened completely.  
“Uncle Moony,” Harry whispered, “can we be family again?”  
Returning the embrace, Moony murmured,  
“We always were, Prongslet, we always were.”  
“You’ll have to tell me about that nickname someday,” muttered Harry.

 

“Harry,” Hermione whispered, “I think we’re in the Shrieking Shack.”  
Harry looked around. His eyes fell on a wooden chair near them. Large chunks had been torn out of it; one of the legs had been ripped off entirely.  
“Ghosts didn’t do that,” he said slowly, recalling all the times Uncle Moony had been ill. The excuses. The hurt he felt at not being told everything. The things Uncle Moony had kept from him, until one day, he’d overheard that conversation in the Three Broomsticks. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs. Remus John Lupin, Peter Pettigrew, Sirius Orion Black and James Fleamont Potter. Lily Evans apparently hadn’t had a nickname. And he, Harry James Potter, was called Prongslet. It was a tangible connection to his family, and he treasured his nickname.  
He hadn’t found out yet where the others’ had come from.  
At that moment, there was a creak overhead. Something had moved upstairs. Both of them looked up at the ceiling. Hermione’s grip on Harry’s hand was so tight he was losing feeling in his fingers. He raised his eyebrows at her; she nodded and let go.  
Quietly as they could, they crept out into the hall and up the crumbling staircase. Everything was covered in a thick layer of dust except the floor, where a wide, shiny stripe had been made by something being dragged upstairs.  
They reached the dark landing.  
“Nox,” they whispered together, and the lights at the end of their wands went out. Only one door was open. As they crept towards it, they heard movement from behind it; a low moan, and then a deep, loud purring. They exchanged a last look, a last nod.  
Wand held tightly before him, Harry kicked the door wide open.  
On a magnificent four-poster bed with dusty hangings, lay Crookshanks, purring loudly at the sight of them. On the floor beside him, clutching his leg, which stuck out at a strange angle, was Ron.  
Harry and Hermione dashed across to him.  
“Ron, are you okay?” Hermione squeaked, dashing forward. Harry grasped her wrist to restrain her.  
“Where’s the dog?” he asked through gritted teeth. He was going to talk to Uncle Moony about keeping these kinds of things from him.  
“Not a dog,” Ron moaned. His teeth were gritted with pain. “It’s a trap!”  
“I know it’s a trap!” Harry snapped. “Where is he?!”  
Ron was staring over Hermione’s shoulder. Harry wheeled around. With a snap, the man in the shadows closed the door behind them.  
A mass of filthy, matted hair hung to his elbows. If eyes hadn’t been shining out of the deep, dark sockets, he might have been a corpse. The waxy skin was stretched so tightly over the bones of his face, it looked like a skull. His yellow teeth were bared in a grin. It was Sirius Black, his Godfather.  
He took a step closer. His eyes were fixed on Harry.  
“I thought you’d come and help your friend,” he said hoarsely. His voice sounded as though he had long ago lost the habit of using it. “Your father would have done the same for me. Brave of you, not to run for a teacher. I’m grateful, it will make everything much easier.”

The taunt about Prongs, his father, rang in Harry’s ears as though Sirius had bellowed it. He had to remind himself rather forcefully of the fact that he was not a lunatic, and therefore would not try to take Sirius on alone. It’d be suicide, that much he knew for sure.  
“If you want to kill Harry, you’ll have to kill us, too!” Ron said fiercely, as though it would make any difference.  
Something flickered in Sirius’s shadowed eyes.  
“Lie down,” he said quietly to Ron, who had, stupidly enough, gotten up. “You will damage that leg even more.”  
“Ron, shut the bloody hell up!” Harry hissed. “That man’s a murderer!  
“I’m not,” said Sirius.  
“Who is, then? Because obviously someone is, as Prongs and Lily are dead! DEAD!” snarled Harry, caution thrown to the winds. “Uncle Moony?”  
“Harry!” shrieked Hermione. “Stop it!”  
“Prongs? Moony?” Sirius whispered, sinking to the floor. “You know,” he stated, looking up at Harry.  
“I know you were supposed to be their friend. You were their friend, and you betrayed them!”  
“That’ll be enough,” an authoritative voice called out. “Prongslet, please let me explain.”  
“EXPELLIARMUS!” yelled Harry. “You don’t have the right to call me that anymore! I wouldn’t be surprised if you were on his side, what with the secrets you’ve been keeping!”  
“I’m sorry, Harry, but you’ll have to let me explain.”  
“Expelliarmus,” Hermione coolly said. Both his own and Moony’s wand were ripped out of his hand.  
“What was that for?” Harry demanded, rounding on her.  
“Calm down. At least let Professor Lupin explain, however feeble his excuses are probably going to be. He’s still family, Harry.”  
“Fine,” he huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. “Let him explain why he didn’t tell me he was a werewolf, and the other Marauders illegal Animagi.”  
Lupin’s jaw dropped open.  
“I do have a brain, you know,” Harry irritably said. “Well? Explain, since Hermione took my wand.”  
Lupin and Sirius exchanged a panicked glance.  
“Padfoot didn’t betray your parents, Harry. Wormtail did,” the former eventually brought out.  
“And how did that happen?” Hermione sharply asked. “He’s dead!”  
“No he’s not!” Sirius yelled. “He’s right there!”  
“I’m not Pettigrew, are you daft?!” Ron exclaimed.  
“Not you, Ron. Your rat,” Lupin calmly said.  
“His Animagus form,” breathed Harry.  
“Indeed. Let us prove it to you.”  
“I’m not giving you your wands back,” said Hermione firmly. “What’s the incantation? I’ll perform whatever spell you want to use myself.”  
“Give Moony his wand back,” Harry quietly said. “Now, Hermione.”  
Looking rather startled, Hermione handed over the wand. Moony flicked it at Scabbers, who promptly changed into a short, rat-faced man.  
“M-moony! Padfoot! My dear, dear friends...”  
“Don’t try that with us, Pettigrew. You are going to Azkaban,” Sirius sneered. “Betraying your friends! Why, we should kill you right now!”  
“And live your life as a convict?” asked Moony, one eyebrow raised. “I don’t think so.”  
“Let’s go,” Harry decided. “We’ll go look for McGonagall.”  
“Harry?” Hermione softly murmured. “It’s a full moon.”  
“Eh, shit,” he said, sending a questioning glance at Moony.  
“You should probably get out of here. I did take my Wolfsbane, but I’ve never been in contact with humans while dosed, so I don’t actually know how well it’ll work.”  
“What’s Wolfsbane?” Sirius curiously asked.  
“A potion which allows a werewolf to keep his mind during the transformation,” said Hermione. At Harry’s incredulous look, she sheepishly added:  
“Sorry, habit.”  
“You’re amazing, you know that?” Harry muttered, shaking his head. “Anyway, how do we get past the Dementors?”  
“Dear Merlin, I hadn’t- shit, shit, shit.”  
“Calm down, Moony. You need to stay here. I can’t go out, because they’ll kiss me. They can’t go out either, because they can’t defend themselves against a dementor.”  
“Yes, so...?” Moony impatiently demanded.  
“Let’s have a sleepover!” Sirius squealed. Moony looked at him as if he were batshit crazy.  
“Are you serious?” Ron timidly said. “I don’t want to stay here, it’s much too dangerous!”  
“Why yes, I am!” Sirius said, bowing.  
“Never say that around him,” Lupin wryly advised.  
“Maybe we could barricade a room?”  
“That won’t be necessary, Mr Potter. I’m escorting you back to the castle.” Turning around, they saw Snape standing in the doorway.  
“EXPELLIARMUS!” Harry shouted. Snape’s wand flew into his hand.  
“Please do explain what is going on here,” Snape drawled, “seeing as that is a dead man.”  
“I’d say I’m very much alive, Snivelly,” Sirius spat, advancing on the Potion’s teacher, who looked mildly panicked now that he didn’t have his wand.  
“Stop, Sirius!” snapped Moony, panting heavily. He was doubled over, hands on his knees. “I can’t- it’s beginning.”  
“Shouldn’t you, I dunno, tie the rat up?” Ron warily suggested as he scooted backwards on the bed.  
“Incarcerous!” Hermione briskly said, effectively restraining Pettigrew.  
Sirius snatched Moony’s wand out of his hand, waving it at Pettigrew, who promptly turned back into a rat as he was trapped in what Harry assumed was an unbreakable glass jar.  
“There,” said Sirius.  
He then rushed over to Moony’s side.  
“Moons, how far is it?”  
“...one,” Moony managed to get out before collapsing onto the ground. Harry watched Sirius’s face go blank, and he feared for his life.  
“What’s going to happen?” Hermione squeaked. Harry went to stand next to her, grasping her hand in silent support.  
“I don’t know,” answered Sirius, looking defeated. He seemed to struggle with something for a moment, before turning back to Snape.  
“I’m innocent, Sniv- Snape. Pettigrew framed me.”  
Snape sneered.  
“And why should that interest me?”  
Sirius balled his hands into fists, looking at the ground.  
“Can you help?” he eventually brought out, looking like he loathed himself for having to ask.  
Harry had kept a wary eye on Moony throughout the whole exchange. By now, he was curled into a ball on the floor, fur steadily growing out of his spine, spreading out to cover his whole body.  
Hermione swallowed, looking at Harry.  
He gazed back, squeezing her hand before releasing it to grip his wand more tightly.  
They both moved into defensive positions to either side of Ron, who seemed close to fainting.  
Meanwhile, Snape had pondered Sirius’s question, and opened his mouth to answer.  
A scream pierced the ears of everyone present. All eyes flew toward Moony, who was writhing on the floor, face resembling something out of a horror movie.  
His nose and mouth had begun to elongate into a snout, almost breaking through the surface of the skin, and though his forehead had not changed, his eyes slowly turned amber, pupils slitting like a cat’s.  
As they watched, his body began to morph. The cracking of bones could be heard, the man stepping aside to let the beast through.  
Harry noticed Ron falling onto his back in a dead faint.  
The werewolf got up, accompanied by the sound of creaking joints.  
It howled.  
Everyone held their breath.  
The wolf cocked its head, tongue lolling out to the side.  
It yipped happily, dancing around chasing its own tail.  
“Moony?” Harry asked, voice trembling. They’d been so close to losing it all.  
The wolf yipped twice.  
“Oh Merlin, it’s really you.” He breathed a sigh of relief. “You scared us for a moment there.”  
Head lowered, the wolf slowly approached, stopping at a respectful distance and lying down on his belly.  
Harry crouched down, stroking its neck. It still felt strange to think of this formidable beast as Moony, but that’s who it was.  
“Hey, Moons,” murmured Sirius, crouching down next to Harry.  
Moony gave a lazy rumble.  
“I’ve always wanted to do this, you know. Feel your fur under my hands, knowing that it’s really you.”  
Tears glistened in Sirius’s eyes. Harry backed away, leaving the two to their private moment.  
He then noticed their Potions master had remained suspiciously quiet during the whole thing.  
Looking at Snape, he quickly realized why. The man’s trousers were soaked, and he was standing in a puddle of his own urine.  
“Are you okay, sir?” Harry kindly asked.  
“What do you think, Potter?” Snape snarked, but it lacked the usual bite. He was pale and shaking, never taking his eyes off Moony.  
“I think”, Hermione broke in with a sympathetic glance at Snape, “that we need to alert the Headmaster.”  
“Do you have a way of contacting him, sir?” Harry asked Snape.  
“None that will work at the moment,” Snape admitted.  
“Okay,” said Harry, taking a deep breath. “Hermione, if you could give me my wand back? And here’s yours, Professor,” he added as he handed Snape his wand back, who promptly pointed it at Moony, a curse on his lips.  
Harry sprang forward, jerking the wand out of his Professor’s hand.  
Moony growled low in his throat, giving him the stink-eye. Sirius, however, did not have the same restraint and lunged at Snape.  
“Stop!” snapped Harry. When no response was forthcoming, he huffed. “Oh, for Merlin’s sake. Petrificus Totalus! Petrificus Totalus!”  
“Scourgify,” Hermione added, waving her wand at Snape.  
“I think we should all get some sleep,” Harry sighed. There’s a bed here, obviously, and we can’t move Ron, so maybe you could stay with him, ‘Mione?”  
Hermione nodded.  
“And we’ll chaperone those two idiots, won’t we, Uncle Moony?” Harry fondly said, scratching the wolf behind the ears.  
Moony yipped happily and began leading the way to what Harry assumed was another bedroom. Quickly, he released the body-bind on Sirius, who, with Moony’s wand, levitated Snape into the second bedroom and onto the far side on the bed, but didn’t release the body-bind. He then transformed into Padfoot, jumping up onto the bed next to Moony. Harry, smiling, crawled in between the two, pulling the covers up to his chin.  
The two canines cuddled up to him. Harry smiled, feeling truly safe.  
His guardians on either side of him, he couldn’t help thinking this was what having family might feel like.  
Content, he drifted off to sleep.


End file.
